


Strange Things Did Happen Here

by tulipwriter



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Panem, Ghost Sex (sort of), Implied/Referenced Character Death, Panem AU, Paranormal, References to Drugs, everlark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6479848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tulipwriter/pseuds/tulipwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're dead, Katniss. You've been dead for over one hundred years."</p><p>Years after the Great Rebellion, Peeta Mellark buys a newly renovated home in the neighborhood of Victor's Village, seeking a fresh start in life. He's instantly attracted to the girl next door, Katniss, but there's something not quite right about her...</p><p>Paranormal Everlark</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

This realtor was seriously something else.

“Owning a part of Victor’s Village is a big, big opportunity!” She said. At least, that’s what Peeta thought she said. He couldn’t be sure, distracted by her bright, purple wig that made her face look like a giant lollipop. She wore an outfit seemingly constructed entirely out of glitter. The sight of her scared him a little, but Effie Trinket had the best sales record in town.

“You’re not going to find another house like this. It’s one of the few structures in the district that survived the Great Rebellion. All the houses on this street have been fully renovated. You are going to flip when you see the kitchen! Marble countertops, commercial grade appliances, a double wide refrigerator…”

The sound of Effie’s voice trailed off as she entered the house with her special realtor’s keycard and Peeta hung back to gaze at the exterior. The home had a new stone facade and a front porch made of everwood meant to resemble cedar. He cupped his hand to shield his eyes from the mid-afternoon and craned his neck up toward the second story windows, which were all new and triple paned, of course. A flash of something white moved in the window furthest to the left. The chill that ran down his spine disappeared once he noticed that the window had been left open a crack and it was a gauzy curtain that swayed in the breeze.

The inside of the home did not disappoint. There were five, large bedrooms and three bathrooms on the upper level. More room than Peeta needed on his own, but, for a moment, he allowed himself to envision a future with love and perhaps even children, filling the place with laughter and memories. He didn’t know how likely any of that was at this point, but he couldn’t abandon the hope. In the short term, there was plenty of room for an art studio, a home office, and a guest room or two for family and friends.

Downstairs was a cozy living room with a working fireplace, a library with heavy, builtin bookcases that looked original to the house, and a sunroom that opened up to a patio. He saved the kitchen for last, and his realtor had been good as her word. It was stunning. He ran his fingers over the cool, glistening stone countertops and tried out the eight gas burners on the stove. Standing in this kitchen, a sense of calm came over him, the same serenity that used to get him through sixty hour workweeks in his restaurant.

Home. He was home.

That look on Effie Trinket’s face said it all: he knew she knew she had him. She clasped her hands together over her heart. “Excellent! You are going to be so happy here, Peeta Mellark.”

*****

Back at Trinket Properties, Peeta poured over the paperwork. He wanted the house, but he also wanted to make sure he was getting a sound investment. His father’s words bounced around in his head: “If something seems to good to be true, then it probably is.” It was that kind of thinking that had made his father one of the most successful investors in all of Panem, and ignoring it had been to Peeta’s own peril over the years.

“Do you have any questions?” Effie asked him.

Peeta frowned. “I’m looking at the comparables in the neighborhood, and this house is priced at almost fifty thousand coins less.”

Effie perked right up. She hadn’t worn the crown of Top Realtor in District 12 all these years for nothing. “This is a good thing, Peeta! You’re getting an amazing deal. It’s instant equity.”

However, Peeta couldn’t help but envision hidden cracks in the foundation walls and a rodent infestation in the attic.

“Maybe help me understand why it’s so much cheaper. It would really put my mind at ease.”

“Truthfully, the market bottomed out in this area about six months ago, and larger homes like this one simply aren’t moving. Plus, it’s a corner lot, which some people can be particular about. There’s nothing untoward about this, Peeta. I’d place my reputation on it.”

That was good enough for Peeta, or maybe he had heard what he wanted to. Either way, he scribbled his signature on his offer form and slid it across his realtor’s mahogany desk.

“Great! I will call you in a couple of days to let you know. This is a strong offer, and I’m cautiously optimistic. Don’t go buying furniture yet, but I think I’ll have good news for you really soon.”

Peeta let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Effie.” He turned around to leave when he remembered a promise he made to his brother, Rye. “Is there any way to know if this was Katniss Everdeen’s house?”

Growing up, Rye had been obsessed with Katniss Everdeen. She was, in his words “the original badass chick.” Peeta was never much for history class, but he knew he had to ask for his brother’s sake. Even now in his 30s, he knew Rye would flip if this house had any connection to his first crush.

Effie laughed. “If I could prove that Katniss Everdeen or Gale Hawthorne had lived in that house, I would have sold it a year ago. Hell, I’d settle for Haymitch Abernathy at this point. But there’s no way to know. The houses were looted during the rebellion. There’s no trace of any of the victors left.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I understand. I was just curious.”

Effie nodded. Her phone started ringing, and she reached out for the receiver. She offered Peeta these parting words: “I did some research on it, once, when I first got the listing. Personally, I think she lived in the house next door.”

*****

Two weeks later, he’d picked up the keys from Effie’s office, and started moving in boxes.

“Son, I am getting too old for this shit,” Peeta’s father slammed a box filled with stainless steel pans down on the kitchen island. He had taken a couple of days off work to help Peeta move. He also never cursed. Peeta cocked an eyebrow at him. “It’s a line from an antique movie. All the rage five hundred years ago, apparently.”

Rye came into the house carrying two throw pillows he’d grabbed off the moving truck, tossing them into the air as he walked. Great help he was. “Yo, little bro, did you ever find out if my girl Katniss Everdeen lived here?”

Peeta shook his head. “Sorry, Rye, that information has been lost to history.”

“Then there’s a one in twelve chance she did, right? Just think, Katniss Everdeen and Gale Hawthorne could have had sex all over this place.”

“Rye, don’t be gross about my new house.”

Rye threw the pillows at his brother’s head. “It’s not gross. It’s the greatest love story of all time. Not my fault you don’t appreciate romance. Come to think of it, that’s probably why Madge finally dumped your ass.”

This comment resulted in the two chasing each other around the living room, throwing any lightweight object that proved handy and culminated with a wrestling match on the floor.

“Uncle!” Peeta shouted. “Say it!”

“Never! I have a championship trophy that says I can beat you.”

“Yeah, well, that was then and this is now. Now, I’m kicking your ass. Say it, Rye.”

When he got no response, he started to twist his brother’s leg, which, in turn caused Rye to shout out. Suddenly, their father was hovering over them, arms crossed, looking less than amused.

“Boys, we’re supposed to be adults, are we not?”

*****

Before leaving, Peeta’s father hugged him and handed over a check for a hundred coin.

“Dad, you didn’t have to.”

“None of that, son. This is a housewarming gift.” His father paused, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He cleared his throat. “You’re okay, though, right?”

That was his father’s subtle way of making sure Peeta wasn’t on the verge of relapse.

“I’m in a good place, Dad. Really.”

*****

He was unpacking books and knicknacks in the library when he first spotted her through the window. She was a tiny thing, barely five foot tall, with a dark braid cascading over her left shoulder. She appeared transfixed by his front flower beds.

He went outside, both for the chance to chat up an attractive woman and to figure out what the heck she was doing in his yard.

“Hi, can I help you?”

The woman looked up at him. He noticed she was younger than he’d originally thought, probably no older than twenty-two. Her eyes, the color of mercury, were slightly clouded over. A strange sensation came over him; he wanted to climb into those silver pools and know everything contained in their depths.

“These are new,” she said, her voice barely registering above a whisper. She pointed to the flowers Peeta had planted just that morning.

“Yeah, I thought the place could stand a little color.”

“Primroses. They’re primroses.”

“I guess so. I mean, I didn’t pay attention to the tag when I bought them from the garden center. But I’ll take your word for it. Do you know a lot about plants?”

The young woman nodded. Then, without preamble, she started to climb his front porch to the door. Peeta raced around her to cut her off.

He scratched the back of his neck, at a loss of what to say to this strange creature who had been seconds from entering his home uninvited. Even at the height of his morphling addiction, Peeta hadn’t acted so erratically. Though it would certainly explain her eyes and stilted speech.

“So this is my house,” Peeta said, jerking his thumb toward the door, hoping she got the message. “I moved in a couple of weeks ago. Do you live around here?”

“Yes.”

Maybe she was just a nosy neighbor, curious about the renovations, or looking for something to report him to the HOA about.

“Where?”

A moment of silence passed between them. She angled her head toward the house next door.

“Right, of course. Well, I should probably introduce myself since we’ll be living next door to each other for the foreseeable future. I’m Peeta.”

She smiled at that. “There aren’t enough people around here. I’m Katniss.”

How ironic, Peeta thought, this Katniss living in a house rumored to once belong to Katniss Everdeen. Then again, ever since the Great Rebellion, Katniss had been the most popular female name in Panem. Incidentally, Gale also remained a popular name, for girls. Gale Hawthorne, alpha male icon of the revolution, would probably roll over in his grave if he knew.

“Nice to meet you, Katniss. Do you want to come inside? It’s a mess because I’m still unpacking, but I made a fresh batch of lemonade. It’s sweltering out here.”

“Lemonade?”

Peeta laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had lemonade. That’s an oversight that needs immediate correction. Follow me.”

He opened the door and waved Katniss inside. There was no denying it. His new neighbor was hot. Much too young for him, but still, he didn’t hate the idea of living twenty-five yards away from her.

“So what do you do? I’m a chef. Well, I was a chef. I’m sort of on a legally mandated sabbatical, but I hope to open up my own restaurant one day.”

“I was a soldier. Not anymore. I got hurt.”

Now that he thought about it, she did have burns on the back of her hands and on her neck, although she tried to cover those with her braid. When she climbed up his porch, he had noticed she walked with a limp.

“Sorry to hear that. You look great, though. Well, not great. Healthy. You know what I mean…”

But Katniss wasn’t listening to his rambling. Her mouth was wide open, her eyes as big as saucers, her movements frozen. She never made it past the doorframe.

“No. This is wrong.”

“Huh?”

“It’s all wrong,” she repeated to herself.

“Katniss, are you okay? I think the heat might be getting to you. Let me get you that drink.”

Peeta headed for the kitchen. He turned around and Katniss was gone, the door still wide open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this AU, Katniss and Gale are reaped for the 74th Hunger Games. Peeta is born about 80 years after the rebellion.


	2. Chapter 2

Peeta set up his supplies: ladder, glue stripper, bucket, wallboard knife. Someone over at Heavensbee Construction Ltd, the company that had done the renovations, had strange taste. The decor in one of the bedrooms, the room directly across from the master, didn’t seem to fit with the rest of the house. It looked old, lived in, where the rest of the house was sleek and sanitized. Shabby chic, Effie had explained. Whatever that meant.

The wallpaper had to go. It was an icy blue metallic color with chains of daisy that climbed from floor to ceiling. Perfect for a pre-teen girl’s bedroom, perhaps, but not well suited for the home gym Peeta had decided to set up in the space.

He placed the standing ladder in a corner of the room and pulled on his rubber gloves. He took a deep breath. He hated heights, even those of the eight-foot variety, and heights hated him right back.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when, after stripping down only a square foot area of the paper, his ladder collapsed, sending him tumbling down with it.

“Fuuuuuuuck!” He shouted into an empty house, clutching his ankle.

*****

“Did you know that thirty thousand people die every year in home accidents?”

“Thanks for the tip, Rye.”

Peeta winced. He hadn’t known a sprained ankle to could hurt this much. Then again, he’d never been denied pain medication before.

Rye sighed into the phone. “Come on, Peet, help me distract you from your misery. Tell me all about your hot new female neighbors. Are they single? Can you introduce me?”

“Who says I have hot neighbors?”

He did have one but wasn’t about to share that information with Rye. He’d pop by for a visit within the hour. No, something intrigued Peeta about Katniss, and he didn’t want to share, not yet.

“You suck at this. Make it up. I want to hear all about the stripper with a heart of gold who lives across the street and does yoga in her front yard every morning.”

Peeta huffed. “Fine. Lots of yoga. Downward dog. Upward rabbit.”

“Now we’re talking. And Peet? Secure the damn ladder next time.”

*****

The next week, he opened his front door, in anticipation of attempting a short hobble around the neighborhood on his crutches, and discovered Katniss standing on the other side, her arm raised into a fist like she was about to knock.

“I came to apologize, for how I acted earlier,” she said. “Did I ruin our chance to become friends?”

Peeta smiled. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. We all do strange things sometimes, right? I once wrote a fan letter to Finnick Odair. Real low point in my life.”

“Your foot!” she blurted out, staring down at his ankle.

“Oh, that? Just a little sprain.”

“I didn’t think you’d get hurt,” she mumbled at the ground.

“Well, home improvement projects can be dangerous, or so I’ve been told. It’s not a big deal.”

Katniss looked up at him, the expression on her face begging him for something. Forgiveness, maybe? It unnerved him.

“Want to take a turn around the neighborhood with me? That is, if you can keep up with my shockingly slow pace.”

Now it was her turn to smile. “I’ll try my best.”

They walked and talked. He learned her favorite color was green and shared that his was orange. She told him stories of times she spent out in the woods when she was a kid, and he admitted that nature scared him. He confessed his secret dream of becoming an art teacher, leaving the restaurant business behind, but he needed to prove himself. She felt stuck in survival mode, only able to focus on getting through the next minute, the next day. He felt like that sometimes, too.

“Who’s your favorite person?” She asked.

“My brother, Rye. As much as I hate to admit it. You?”

Katniss stopped walking. “My sister. She’s hard for me to talk about.”

“Then I won’t ask you to.”

She took a deep breath. “The truth is, she disappeared a while back, and I don’t know where she is. I search but never get any closer. Sometimes I struggle to remember what she looks like, or how her voice sounds. I’m worried I’ll forget her.”

“You won’t,” he said. “I promise.”

The significance of what Katniss had opened up and shared was not lost on him. It meant a lot that she would trust him with the things she kept locked inside. He wanted to grab her arm and pull her in for a hug, but he refrained, keeping his arms tight at his sides. It was too familiar a gesture, and Katniss did not strike him as the hugging type.

Victor’s Village contained one narrow road that dead ended at a culs-de-sac. There were six houses on one side of the street, five opposite, and one capping the end.

“That’s Haymitch’s house,” Katniss said.

“Haymitch Abernathy, the victor? How do you know that?”

“Well, for one, it’s the furthest separated from all the others. Besides, I can smell the booze and filth from here.”

Peeta didn’t smell anything.

“What’s your favorite animal?” She asked.

“Penguins. I saw them at the zoo when I was a kid. I probably should pick a more manly animal, though. I’ve changed my mind. I’m really into grizzly bears.”

Katniss laughed. It sounded like music. “I’m just glad you’re not into cats.”

When they turned around to head back, Peeta walked even slower.

*****

He didn’t intend to eavesdrop. The previous night, he’d watched a television program on the home improvement network that inspired him to install an intercom system. He left the windows open as he worked. A voice he recognized came wafting through.

“He’s just a friend.”

Peeta peeked outside and saw Katniss standing with a tall, dark haired man who shared her olive skin tone and looked to be about her same age. Nothing about her body language suggested Katniss was enjoying their interaction, but Peeta still didn’t like it. He hadn’t considered she might have a boyfriend.

The guy snorted. “I know all about being your _friend_ , Katniss. Because I’m certainly not your boyfriend.”

That detail was a relief to overhear. However, from the way this guy spit out the words, it sounded like he wasn’t entirely convinced he was not, indeed, her boyfriend.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Wasn’t planning on it. In fact, I’ve decided to stay angry at you for an eternity.”

She shrugged. “It’s your eternity. Knock yourself out.”

He laughed mirthlessly. “You never were the nice one.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I never wanted that. I thought you understood our relationship wasn’t real, that it was for show. I was so focused on convincing the world that I lost sight of how it affected you. I’m a liar, and I hate that you believed me. But I did what I thought I had to do to keep us alive.”

“And how’d that work out? I don’t know whether to be jealous of this guy or warn him.”

Katniss stormed off in a huff, sprinting toward the tree line. She stopped running before she got there, as if some invisible barrier kept her penned in. She crouched onto her belly and shimmied forward a couple of feet before disappearing into the woods.

*****

The pest infestation Peeta had worried about materialized, not with arachnid or rodent, but in the form of the world’s ugliest ginger cat. One morning, he rolled over to hit the snooze button and faced a pair of hungry looking, squash-colored eyes instead. The next day, he discovered the beast routing around his kitchen trash can. From then on, the cat would be curled up in the bathroom sink when he tried to brush his teeth, or occupying his leather recliner when he wanted to relax. All of Peeta’s attempts to make nice were rebuffed; the cat hissed and growled with every effort made to pet or grab it. Worse, it seemed to have endless talent for sneaking back into the house after being chased out. 

Once, Peeta was sure he’d stepped on it as it’d weaved through his legs, and almost felt bad. Almost. But unscathed and unsquashed, the cat trotted off for an afternoon nap.

“I guess it’s time I named you,” he said as the cat gave itself a luxurious bath. Despite frequent grooming, the cat never seemed to get any less mangy. It looked up at Peeta, bored. “How does GoAway sound?”

*****

Katniss sat on a bar stool as Peeta raced around in a search for oregano. So thin, she could slip into the seat without pulling it away from the counter. He’d noticed it before, how slight she was. So when he ran into her at his mailbox that afternoon, he couldn’t help but invite her inside with hopes of feeding her.

“Watching you is driving me crazy,” she said.

“I know, sorry. I must be giving off a ton of nervous energy right now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t mean it in a negative way. I like watching you work. I’ve just never seen this much food before.”

He had half of a dozen pots and pans in various stages of bubbling and gurgling. It probably looked insane, but he had a very important client to impress later that evening. One of his father’s oldest friends, Cinna, dabbled as a restaurateur and always promised to help him open his own place “one day.” Today, Peeta decided, was as good one day as any other.

“A potential investor in my restaurant is stopping by for dinner. I might have gone a bit overboard. Here, taste this. Tell me what you think.”

Katniss craned her neck away from the spoon. “Since I got hurt I can’t taste anything. Sorry.”

He tried not to be disappointed. “Well, then I’ll have to help you out. Mmmmm, tastes like someone really handsome cooked it.”

She should have laughed at his joke, but she didn’t. “Definitely,” she said, softly.

This was it, his opening. He leaned over to kiss her, never so sure of making the first move in his life, but then he heard a cat growling in the background. And like that, they’d snapped out of the moment. He made a mental note to turn that cat into stew. Katniss went over and picked it up. He swore he heard snickers as it melted into her arms, purring so loudly the room vibrated.

“You’ve met?”

Katniss sighed. “Unfortunately. This is Buttercup. He used to belong to my sister. He’s kind of adopted me above my strenuous objections.”

That seemed to be Buttercup’s way of connecting with people.

“I need to get going, but you’re going to wow this investor, Peeta. And if not, I happen to be an excellent shot.”

*****

Cinna didn’t hesitate with his answer: “No.”

Peeta felt blindsided. “You don’t believe in me anymore,” he said, defeated.

“I’ve never doubted your talent, not for a second. It’s not the morphling, either. I know you’re religious about getting your monthly Opi-Shot, and I believe you’ll stay clean.”

“Then why?”

“Peeta, look around at this house and tell me what you see.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s the problem: the things you don’t see. This place is a disaster, kid. There are half-finished projects all over the place. Wires sticking out, cabinet drawers missing, partially painted walls.”

He shrugged. “I’m working on a few things.”

“I spoke to your father. He says you haven’t left this house in three months beyond the occasional errand. You’re becoming obsessive, replacing one habit with another.”

Three months? Had he even lived here that long? 

Cinna patted him on the back as he stood to leave. There was sadness in his rich brown eyes, but Peeta knew there was no hope in arguing with him. Opening a restaurant would be just another aspect of his life that hadn’t gone to plan.

“If you really want a project, fix the temperature in this foyer. It’s at least thirty degrees colder here.”

But standing right behind him, Peeta didn’t feel the chill at all.


	3. Chapter 3

At the nagging encouragement of his father, Peeta went out on a date. He and Delly had grown up together. They’d done lots of things together. And every few years, they would reconnect to see if they could build something more out of their friendship, but the timing never seemed right. On paper it made sense: they had shared history, similar temperaments, a mutual attraction.

But it wasn’t Delly he thought about all that evening. Seeing her straw blonde hair, without a strand out of place, reminded him of Katniss’s wind-blown dark braid and how much he preferred it. Her form-hugging dress modeled in the latest fashion, made him think of the battered, oversized leather jacket Katniss always wore. When she ordered the goat cheese and heirloom tomato salad, moaning in appreciation, he imagined getting Katniss to moan. His mind almost went to dangerous places before he caught himself and remembered where he was.

He was such a goner. How had he not realized it before?

As the date dragged on, he knew Delly picked up on his reluctance. Half way through their meal, she remembered an important work project that needed her immediate attention.

She kissed his cheek. “You don’t want this.”

It was a question and answer rolled into one. He let his silence provide the confirmation. Delly sighed.

“We always did have impeccable timing. I guess I never thought I’d have competition once I was ready for that next step. It’s not the job, anymore. Someone else, maybe? The One?”

“I’m sorry, Dels. I wish I could be who you’re waiting for.”

She shook her head. “Never be sorry, Peeta Mellark, not for me. Give me a call if things change.”

As he watched her walk away, he thought that Delly was the kind of girl he could really grow to love. But not as much as he already did love someone else.

*****

Peeta returned home to find his brother raiding his refrigerator in pursuit of a sandwich.

Rye let out a low whistle. “Only eight o’clock. I had more faith in you than this.”

“If that’s true, then why are you here?”

“Dad is emptying out his attic. He sent me over with a box full of your old art supplies. What happened with Delly? I thought she was a sure thing.”

“Maybe I’m looking for more than the sure thing.”

“Well that’s fucking depressing. Whoa, you got a cat?”

Peeta caught a glimpse of Buttercup streaking across the tile floor. After weeks of their stand-off, he caved and installed a cat door. Not that he’d ever seen the ungrateful gnat use it.

“No, I have shared custody of a cat. Buttercup technically belongs to my neighbor but rejects boundaries.”

“Kind of mean to name a cat that ugly after a flower. So tell me about this neighbor you’re desperate to bang.”

Peeta sighed. It’d been less than two hours since he realized his feelings for Katniss, and all he wanted some alone time to process things.

“There’s nothing romantic happening with the neighbor, Rye. I never even said it was a woman.”

“Wait a second. You beg off early from your date, and you’re half of an all-male feline timeshare? The puzzle pieces are starting to fit together, bro.” 

Rye accompanied this speech with a lewd hand gesture to show what he meant by _pieces fitting together_ , as if there’d been any ambiguity. And then he added: “I can spend the night here, right?”

*****

A redheaded Justice Officer knocked on his door. He wore a nametag that read “Darius.” No way to know if it was his first or last name.

“Hate to bother you,” Officer Darius began. “We’ve had a few nuisance complaints about your house from some of the other residents on the block. Reports of loud voices arguing, a man and woman. It’s interrupting the _Caesar Flickerman Hour_.”

“That’s ridiculous. I live alone. Plus, that show’s been in reruns for a decade.”

Darius cleared his throat and hardened his stance. “Excuse me, sir. Don’t interrupt.”

Peeta was tempted to call him a Peacekeeper, an old derogatory term, but didn’t want to invite a ticket. So he listened to the great list of his suburban sins. Lights flickering on and off. Faces staring through the windows. Banging noises. Better looking hydrangeas. 

He frowned. “I’m going to cross off that last one. Your hydrangeas look like shit.”

Peeta stifled an incredulous snort.

Officer Darius tucked his notepad back into his shirt pocket and narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Mellark, don’t make a game of this. My records indicate you’re a morphling addict, is that right?”

Peeta could guess where this was going. After the Great Rebellion, a large percentage of the survivors became addicted to morphling to dull the pain, physical and emotional. It was something Peeta could relate to, having lost his mother to cancer and his job to a vindictive head chef in the month he picked up his first syringe. Back during the Coin administration, a drug was rushed onto the market that mimicked an opiate but was not addictive, called Opi-Shot. It cured millions of addicts overnight. But in some, it caused manic behavior and memory loss. The doctors called the side-effect “hijacking.”

“I’m not hijacked,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I hope not, Mr. Mellark. Just be careful. Keep your eyes open, even for the things you don’t want to see.”

*****

A week passed without him seeing Katniss, then two. He stared out his window more than what was healthy. He checked his mailbox five times each day. Before this, it’d seemed like Katniss was just always around. He’d be thinking of her and suddenly notice that she was returning from a hike in the woods, or pulling dead brush from the flowerbed. But now? It seemed she was nowhere.

He crossed over the grassy nomansland that separated his house from the one next door and started up her walkway. He bent over to gather a couple of dandelions that had broken through the cement.

“Stealing is punishable by death, you know.” A voice called out from behind him. Part of him hoped the voice was checking out his ass.

He turned around and shrugged. “I didn’t think anyone would miss a few weeds.”

“Well, the greens on those are edible, and that does make them a pretty hot commodity around here.”

“They’re a bit gritty, don’t you think?”

He thought she might be repressing a smile. “I’ve had better. What are you doing here?”

“I haven’t seen you around. I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

Peeta was confused. “Katniss, I like spending time with you. In fact, if you could bother more often, that’d be great.”

She huffed. “We’re just neighbors. I don’t want to interfere with your life or scare off your dates or something.”

Where was this coming from? And he did not like the way she’d emphasized the words _just neighbors_.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh.”

“What about you? Any boyfriends?”

She shook her head.

“Good to know.”

So Katniss didn’t have a boyfriend. He tried not to read too much into it. She wasn’t necessarily looking for one. Though if he could see his face, he was sure he’d see a goofy grin spreading out to his ears.

“Come back to my house. I have something I want to show you.” He cringed at how forward he sounded. “Totally innocent, promise.”

****

He’d set up a makeshift art studio in his sunroom. On his easel was a sheet of vellum strapped down to a board and a selection of charcoal crayons.

“What’s all this?” Katniss asked.

“I want to draw your sister. So you won’t forget.”

“Peeta...”

“I won’t pry. You don’t have to tell me anything about her you don’t want me to know. Just don’t say no. At least think about it.”

“I don’t have a picture to show you.”

“Then describe her to me. Start with something small, like her hair color.”

Katniss was quiet for a minute before saying: “She’s blonde, with blue eyes. And when she laughs it’s like the whole world stops to listen.”

Peeta smiled. “I can work with that.”

Over the next couple of hours, Katniss talked and Peeta sketched. Katniss said things like “she had a nose like mine but more delicate” and “cheekbones higher than mine.” Peeta nodded along but heard the hidden truth in her words. No one had ever been brave enough to tell her how beautiful she was, how she outshined the sister she so idolized and adored.

As Peeta’s wrist continued to dance over the surface, and a girl in her late teens started to appear on the paper, he experienced a strange vision. It felt like a memory, but one that didn’t belong to him. A young, dark haired girl in a red plaid dress plucked a wildflower from the earth and tucked it behind a towheaded toddler’s ears. He shook it off.

“I think I’m finished. What’s the verdict?”

Katniss gasped. “Peeta, this is incredible. You’re incredible. How are you not doing this full-time?”

“I’m glad you like it.” He tried to sound modest, but he swelled with pride. With care, he removed the finished artwork from its support board and nudged it toward her, but she didn’t grab for it.

“You keep it,” she said. “For the start of your new portfolio.”

“Katniss, I drew this for you to have. That was the entire point.”

“I meant what I said about your talent. As much as I love this portrait, it would make me even happier if it inspired you to keep working on your art. Besides, if we keep it here, I’ll have no choice but to come over all the time to look at it. So will you allow it?”

As if he could deny her anything. “I’ll allow it.”

*****

Peeta spent the weekend at his father’s house, helping with the clean-out process. He was knee deep in junk in the attic, sorting the occasional item he could actually identify into boxes marked for storage. Rye sat on a makeshift seat he’d constructed out of cardboard, taking a break from the work he never started to do in the first place.

“You’ve been drawing again?” Rye flipped through a sketchbook Peeta had brought along, hoping to capture some local landmarks while on his visit home.

“What are you, an art critic? Put that down,” he came across something he thought might be a potato masher and threw it the box marked for kitchen goods. “And, yes, a friend has kind of been encouraging me.”

“For someone who slept through History of Panem back in school, you sure are fixated on Katniss Everdeen. There’s like a thousand pictures of her in here, but you’ve done something weird to her eyes.”

He stormed over and grabbed it out of his brother’s grubby hands.

Rye pouted. “I didn’t get to the porn.”

“What are you talking about? This is my neighbor.”

“I think you might be losing your mind, bro.” 

He started riffling through the surrounding mess, pulling out a stack of yellowed books, their covers long torn off, the pages curling. Peeta recognized them as ones his brother had back in middle school, when they shared a room. They had titles like _Ripped From the Seam: How Two Kids from District 12 Changed the World_ and _Ultimate Sacrifice: The Everdeen Sisters_ and _Gale and Katniss: Rebellious Love_. Curiosity got to him, and he started to open one.

“Be careful, some of the pages might be a little sticky.”

“Gah!” He tossed the book across the room. It landed on the floor and fell open. 

A very familiar face looked up at him from the page.


	4. Chapter 4

Effie Trinket was in the middle of a big, big meeting! and Peeta Mellark didn’t fucking care. 

“You knew!”

He slammed the book down on her desk. Popping off the page was a glossy photograph of Katniss Everdeen, co-victor of the 74th and final Hunger Games, standing in front of her prize, her house in Victor’s Village. A house to the left of a narrow dirt road, since paved, with a huge oak in the front yard. His house. Katniss had never been the girl next door.

The color drained from Effie’s face before she regained composure and ushered out the curious people who had clamored into her office so obviously hoping to witness a smackdown of Ms. #1 Realtor.

She took a deep breath. “Yes, Peeta, I knew. You have to understand. You were the first client who made it through an entire tour of that disaster house. People would claim to hear voices or feel chills or see faces staring at them in the mirror. Very improper manners, ghost or not. Goodness forbid someone go into the younger sister’s bedroom. Talk about a nightmare! Couldn’t even be renovated. The construction crew kept hammering their own fingers and falling off ladders.”

The strange, unfinished room. _Falling off ladders_.

“A little heads up would have been nice. You don’t seem overly concerned about getting sued.”

“Plausible deniability. That’s a legal term. Feel free to look it up. Now, I have important business, if you’ll excuse me.”

Peeta intercepted her efforts to slip out of the office. “You’re kidding. That’s it? Not even an apology?”

She rolled her eyes, as though being faced with accusations of fraud was an inconvenience on the level of getting caught in the rain without an umbrella. “Young man, I don’t understand what you want from me. For whatever reason, that house, and any paranormal entities that occupy it, chose you. I can’t say I believe in ghosts per se, but something scared off all those potential buyers-- until you came along. Believe it or not, unexplained phenomenon is not a required disclosure. The sale was fair and square. For better or worse, that home is yours, Mr. Mellark.”

Confident she had won the day, Effie Trinket continued out the door, pumpkin orange head held high. She handed Peeta her business card. “On the other hand, if you do decide ever to sell, I can cut you a percentage discount on the commission.”

As she disappeared down the hallway, she called out behind her: “Second thought, dear, make that half a percent.”

*****

How had he been so blind? The truth seemed obvious, now. The hunting jacket she wore no matter the weather. The way she never moved or touched anything, as if she could visit his realm but not affect it. Except Buttercup-- of course. No wonder it was so easy for that cat to get into the house all the time. Because Buttercup, like Katniss, was always there. And for the first time, he allowed himself to feel a bit creeped out.

_The house is wrong. It’s all wrong._

_I was a soldier. I got hurt._

_I don’t know where my sister is. I search but I never get closer._

He’d been a fool. Finally, he was seeing the things he didn’t want to see. It’s what his friends and family, even that boot-licking Justice Officer, had warned him about, that he hadn’t been thinking clearly-- even if no one could have guessed it was because his heart was protecting his head from realizing he’d fallen in love with a dead girl.

Now he saw reality. He wished he didn’t.

*****

For a week, Peeta hid at his father’s place, spending every free moment devouring Rye’s old books about Katniss Everdeen. When his dad asked him as nicely as possible for the tenth time about returning to his own house, he knew the time had come to confront the issue.

How does one go about summoning a ghost? All previous interactions between Peeta and Katniss had been on her terms. He realized that now. For this conversation, however, he wanted the upper hand. He went with a hunch. He stood in his living room and simply started talking to her.

“Katniss? I was thinking of hanging Prim’s portrait on this wall here. What do you think?”

“I’m not sure that’s the best spot. The sun really pours through those south facing windows.”

As predicted, Katniss had materialized. If she realized her mistake, or that Peeta had used Prim’s name without being told, it didn’t show.

“How’d you get into my house?”

“What do you mean? I knocked on the door, and you let me in.”

Peeta shook his head. “No, Katniss, you’ve never knocked on my door. You can’t. Do you have any memory of doing that?”

She scowled. “You’re acting strange. What’s going on?”

“Why didn’t you tell me who you really are? That you’re Katniss Everdeen?”

“I don’t exactly go around advertising my identity, Peeta,” she huffed. “President Snow has eyes and ears everywhere. It’s dangerous to know me.”

Dictator Snow? Who died in the final fire bombing of the capital? “Snow is dead, Katniss. He’s been dead more than a century.”

“Ha ha. I’m not even sure Snow can die. I think he has some secret formula stashed in a bunker.”

Peeta pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be harder than he thought.

“Yes or no: You are Katniss Everdeen, winner of the 74th Hunger Games?”

“Yes, I told you--”

“Along with Gale Hawthorne, your lover.”

“No! Well, yes, but only to the first--”

“Together you were the face of the Great Rebellion.”

“Why are you asking me these questions?” she asked, getting increasingly frustrated with him. “It wasn’t even my idea! Coin forced--”

“The war dragged on, longer than expected. The rebels stormed the capital. You and Gale went along to film propaganda videos. You were behind the front lines, not in harm’s way. But then the bombs came.”

She visibly recoiled, as if his words caused her physical pain. “I don’t want to play this game anymore. You’re scaring me. Please, my head hurts.”

“Your sister was there, in the capital. She was supposed to be in District 13, safe and underground.”

“Stop! I’m begging you!”

“You saw a parachute bomb drift down in Prim’s direction. You ran toward her. Gale ran toward you. It exploded.”

“Stop!” she screamed. “No! Stop!”

Peeta squeezed his eyes shut as Katniss continued to howl. He should have let her be. Move out, move on, let her eternal soul be someone else’s problem. But, in the end, he knew he’d never walk away from her. Not when there was a chance he could save what was left of her.

There was silence. Katniss had vanished.

*****

The library in District 12 had one copy of the 74th Hunger Games, the edited version they showed on the Historical Chanel. For three days, Peeta watched it on a loop. He didn’t know when, of if, he’d see her again.

She appeared beside him on the couch, like they were a normal couple snuggling up for a quiet night in. The couch cushion didn’t compress under her weight like it should have, knocking him back into reality.

“This is my favorite part,” he said. On the projection screen was one of the infamous cave scenes that made Katniss and Gale a national sensation. In this clip, Katniss was putting on a brave face as the wound on her leg slowly killed her, and Gale did his best to prevent her from going into shock. The parachute with her medicine would come, but not yet. For right now, all of Panem was riveted watching a boy watch the girl he loved die.

“Why does he raise his eyebrows like that?”

Katniss smiled a bit at the memory. “He knew that wasn’t the real story about how I bought Prim her goat. It involved illegal hunting.”

“Who came up with the idea for the fake romance?”

She turned to face him. “You have to understand. Haymitch chose Gale. For decades he’d sent scared, malnourished children into that arena to survive a few minutes, maybe a day. Then he gets handed a tribute as big, strong and proud as the careers. I couldn’t blame him, not really. There’s only one victor, right? But I’d promised Prim I would try to win. I couldn’t go down without a fight. I knew the Capitol just wanted a good show so I gave them a show. When I revealed my strategy, I swear I could hear Haymitch groaning.”

It happened when Gale first found Katniss down by the river, soaking her leg. The gamemakers had chased her away from the edge of the dome with fireballs, and one had hit her thigh. Gale got to her before the careers could and tucked her into the cave for safekeeping. _If I die..._ she said to him. _You won’t. Catnip, you won’t. Don’t talk like that,_ he responded. _In case you’re wrong, Gale, I need you to know…_ He cut her off with a kiss.

“I never set out to hurt him. When we hunted together, we didn’t need to use words. We could read each other’s thoughts and movements. I was sure he knew what I was doing. That it could be good for both of us and increase our chances with sponsors.”

Peeta turned his attention to the screen. It showed the final moments of the game. Katniss and Gale stood in front of a giant metal cornucopia, their cupped hands overflowing with nightlock berries. Gale leans over and kisses her furiously in what he expects to be his final living moments.

“Snow was furious about the berries. He thought it was rebellious. Truth was, that was the most genuine moment between us the entire game. I wasn’t in love with Gale, but I loved him more than just about anyone, and I couldn’t imagine leaving that arena alone. The guilt would have destroyed me.”

“When did Gale realize it wasn’t real?”

“On the train back home. He was so angry, with me, with the world. Once he found out our actions had inspired people, once he realized those berries sparked rebellion in the districts, he fanned the flames. He couldn’t have me, but he could burn down the system, you know?” Katniss paused. “I’m really dead, aren’t I?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You deserved better.”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure I did. A lot of people died because of me. The least I could do was join them. And I kind of knew. That I was dead. How long has it been?”

“One hundred and seven years.”

She laughed at that. When Peeta asked her why she explained it was better than crying. Not that she could cry.

“I must have died in the explosion. Gale, too?”

He nodded.

“No wonder he’s pissed at me still. I didn’t even realize he was chasing after me. I could only focus on getting to Prim. Please tell me you know what happened to Prim.”

Peeta nodded again.

“Good. Not right now. I’m not ready to hear it. I need to go, Peeta.”

“I know.” He did. He understood she would need time. It was her concept of time that worried him. After all, one hundred years passed without her realizing it. “I don’t want to lose you, Katniss. I know that’s eight shades of fucked up, but there it is. Promise you’ll come back. Before I’m in adult diapers, preferably.”

She smiled at that. “You’ll be waiting for me?”

“Always.”

He could feel the heaviness of his heart when she vanished once more.


	5. Chapter 5

Peeta went to the Justice Building and applied for a working permit. He would be evaluated and then could chose from a list of job openings. As he stood in line for the third straight hour, waiting to be fingerprinted and have his blood drawn for the government’s electronic records, he wondered if this was the freedom Katniss and had fought for.

The reforms President Coin instituted after the Great Rebellion were _mostly_ positive. She brought back an archaic governing system called democracy that turned out to be very popular. People were free to move to other districts and live how they chose. But Coin also liked to monitor the population. She had an obsession with the birth rate and started the Panem Future program, the details of which sounded a lot like tesserae to Peeta once he started thinking about it.

He started working long shifts at a local restaurant. It was not as prestigious as his previous jobs working at five star establishments inside the Capitol, but his new boss wasn’t a sadistic tool like Chef Seneca Crane, either. He considered it an overall upgrade.

A month passed without seeing Katniss. One night, exhausted from a day of lifting hundred pound sacks of flour, as he was now apprenticing under the pastry chef, all he laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. He thought about Katniss. Where she was. Would she ever come back. 

“It’s awfully inconvenient being dead,” a familiar voice cut rang out. Katniss laid on the bed next to him. “Because I like you. A lot.”

“I like you, too. A lot.”

“You don’t look that much older. Still continent, I assume.”

He laughed at that. “As far as I know. Where do you go when you vanish like that?”

“It’s hard to describe. It’s like I disappear into myself until I’ve achieved nothingness. Sometimes I’m aware of what’s happening around me, sometimes not.”

“Why did you push me off the ladder? It’s been bothering me, and I have to ask.” He said it in a soft tone so it wouldn’t sound like an accusation. He didn’t want to give her an excuse to flee.

Katniss sighed. “I was never good with emotions, but at least when I was alive I had a physical body to trap them. Now, when I’m angry or sad, it’s as if all I am in that moment is anger or sadness. Prim’s bedroom is all I have left of her, and when I saw you stripping off the wallpaper… I didn’t push you so much as the force of my anger caused you to fall.”

“So the flickering lights and the temperature drops and the banging noises? That’s because something’s happened to make you miserable or anxious or happy even?”

She nodded. “Am I getting you in trouble?”

He waved her off. “Don’t worry about it. The whole neighborhood thinks I’m suffering a substance-related psychological break.”

“What?”

“Nevermind. Katniss, do you think you’ll be stuck in this sort of limbo forever?”

“I hope not. I was there when Haymitch died. I found him one day, slumped over his kitchen table with a bottle clutched in his hand. Gale and I were all he had-- besides white liquor-- and we were gone. So when he died, his heart was free. No obligations, no baggage. He just faded away. I’ve wondered: what if I’d allowed him to see me? Would he have stayed behind? I’m glad that’s not what happened. We didn’t always get along, but he deserved that peace in the end.”

 _So do you_ , Peeta thought. That was why when the time came to tell Katniss the truth about her sister, he would not hold back, even if it meant he might lose her.

*****

After that, Katniss stuck around for days at a time, keeping him company and entertaining him while he did mundane housework. For a ghost, she had a pretty serious television addiction. She said it was her window into the new Panem. Peeta told her stories about well nourished children who never feared the reaping, coal mines replaced with factories that built solar cells, and a society where no one cared about class divisions like town vs. seam or district vs. capitol. In turn, she shared her memories with him. His ears perked up when she mentioned a little bakery his family ran four generations ago. The kind man who lived there had given her some bread once when she really needed it. He wished he could tell his father about that.

Everything about their relationship felt so… normal. Deep down he knew he was asking for trouble.

*****

“Just another mile,” Katniss chirped, bouncing with each step she took as she led him down the wooded trail.

“That’s what you said three miles ago!”

She shrugged. “It’s difficult for ghosts to tell distances.”

He doubled over to catch his breath. The previous two times he got winded, he made a show of retying his shoe. But he didn’t care about pretending at this point.

“You’re such a rotten liar. How did I let you convince me I had to see this lake? I can’t even swim.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Peeta, but I’m starting to worry about your physical health. You need to exercise more.”

“What’s the worst that could happen, besides dying of a heart attack? At least then I could be with you.”

She froze and the trees behind her started to shake a little. “Don’t ever joke about that again. I mean it.”

“Sorry. I didn’t think.”

“It’s fine. Pick up the pace, windbag. At this rate we won’t get there until tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure that word means what you think it does. Hey, wait up!”

Katniss abruptly stopped when she came to the clearing. The lake she promised was there, glistening under the late afternoon sun. And next to it, a stack of condominiums she probably hadn’t been expecting. Peeta recognized where he was instantly. He didn’t have the heart to tell her the very special place she came with her father was actually on his drive to work.

“I didn’t realize there’d be spectators.”

“We’ll be fine here. We’re at least a hundred yards away from any prying eyes. Come on, let’s catch some rays before the death march home.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Sorry!”

Peeta laid out the blanket he’d brought along. Katniss nestled down next to him and pretended to slather suntan lotion over her leather jacket.

“This is nice,” she said.

“Yep.”

Then the moment he was dreading. “I’m ready to know what happened to Prim.”

He turned onto his side. “You’re sure?”

“I know what this could mean, that I might go on to some undetermined next realm like Haymitch. If that happens, I’ll miss you, Peeta. But I can’t go on not knowing.”

“Okay.” He flopped over on his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows like a child sharing naughty secrets at a slumber party. “The bomb didn’t hit its intended target. Well, unless you believe the conspiracy nuts who claim Coin dropped it on you and Gale on purpose.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying she survived the blast, Katniss. Prim lived. She suffered some pretty nasty burns, but she lived a full life. She died a couple of years before I was born, at eighty-seven years old.”

Katniss folded her hands over her heart and emitted something akin to a choked sob.

“You okay?”

“I am much, much better than okay. That’s all I ever wanted, from the moment I volunteered for her place in the reaping. To save Prim. Tell me about her.”

Prim moved to District Four after the war. She lived with their mother at first, but Mrs. Everdeen developed heart problems and died not long after. She’d never recovered from losing her oldest daughter. Prim became a doctor specializing in pediatric oncology. She got married and had three children, one boy and two girls. She didn’t name either of her daughters Katniss. In later interviews Prim would admit she still cried whenever she thought of her sister. She valued her privacy but remained active in the remembrance community. She helped rename a local university in Gale’s honor and helped pass a law that transformed forty thousand acres of land outside District Twelve into a protected forest. Hence the Katniss Everdeen Wildlife Preserve was born.

“You’ll never guess who she married.” He'd saved this tidbit for last, because, really, it was just too juicy.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Someone I know?”

“Rory Hawthorne.”

She guffawed. “Of course. Those two little twerps were so obvious back in Thirteen. Just a tip: smooth down your hair after you ask your boyfriend to ‘help you find something’ in a storage closet. So I guess the world did get its Everdeen-Hawthorne pairing after all. The right one, this time. I wish I had been there to see it.”

“Katniss?” Peeta said softly.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t fade away.”

“No, I’m still here.”

“Then what’s keeping you? You know what happened to Prim. That was your unfinished business, right?”

Katniss thought about it for a beat and then answered: “I think I’m here for you.”

*****

He put it off as long as he could, but he was twenty-nine, for crying out loud. Hence it became inevitable that one day he would wind up jerking off in his bedroom, wondering how many eyes were on him. Did ghosts have some sort of masturbatory honor code? Did they refuse to look, or were they voyeurs? And just how many ghosts were in this house, anyway? Could his _mother_ see this? He did not want to think about it.

He rationalized it at first. Touching himself wouldn't be necessarily more embarrassing than using the bathroom in full view of a potential paranormal audience, and he did that daily. However, that realization on its own sent him down a bit of a spiral. Then he focused how he hadn’t had sex in a year. He’d have his fly zipped back up within a minute. No problem. 

He tried not to think about Katniss while he did it. For a while, he tried to envision a cute waitress from work, but she didn’t hold his interest. Despite his best efforts his mind kept wandering back to the forbidden fruit. Don’t think of Katniss. Anyone but Katniss. She’s going to know somehow, and it’ll be fucking awkward.

And then he went and said her name out loud. That drew her out of the shadows. As he predicted, it was fucking awkward.

“You called? What the…?!”

She covered her eyes with her fingers. It would be comical if he wasn’t so damned turned-on.

“You can see through your hands! Why even bother with that?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched her forehead.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to disappear! What does it look like I’m doing? Last week, I vanished because you told a joke that reminded me of my second grade teacher, but now I’m stuck!”

“Maybe you don’t want to leave. Maybe you want to stay,” he paused aware he was about to tread on dangerous territory, “And watch.”

“I am not some pervert!”

“And here I was so worried. You wouldn’t be a pervert because you wanted to see me, Katniss. And I wouldn’t be one, either, if I admitted I wanted you to.”

She relaxed her posture and opened her eyes. “This is weird.”

“It’s not ideal,” he agreed.

“I have no idea what to do.”

“What you’re doing now is fine.”

“I’m just standing here. Peeta, this is ridiculous. I can’t even take my clothes off.”

That stops his hand cold. “You’d take off you clothes for me? If you could?”

She rolled her gorgeous, cloudy silver eyes. “How else would we have sex?”

“You would have sex with me?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am a little. You seem so pure.”

“Oh, is that what you were thinking about ten seconds ago when you had your dick in your hand? How pure I am?” She started to blush, or maybe he imagined it. “I guess I am a bit inexperienced. You’re the first guy I’ve been interested in.”

“Really?”

“Well, with the starvation and the civil war, I had a tight schedule. And before you even ask the question that will just piss me off, no, I was never with Gale like that. Your… I’ve never seen one before. Are they all that large?”

“Nope. Mine is objectively massive. I wouldn’t lie to you about that. Are you sure you’re comfortable with this? I can stop.”

“Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

*****

She insisted they have Gale over for a game night. The kind of thing normal couples do with their friends. As he glanced over at a sullen Gale Hawthorne leering back at him from the recliner across the room, he regretted ever mentioning the concept of a game night to her.

Gale “lived” in the house across the street. It had been his in life and he saw no reason to abandon it in death. He wasn’t there often though, preferring to haunt the woods and the meadow.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Katniss frantically waving at him. Oh, right, charades. As far as he could figure, it was the only party game appropriate for apparitions.

“On word, two syllables.”

“That took you guys forever,” she said. “Are we even still playing?”

“I never was,” Gale mumbled.

Peeta yawned. “Sorry, long day at the restaurant. Maybe we should call it a night.”

“What do you mean _restaurant_?”

“Katniss,” he warned.

“Peeta,” she mimicked. “What happened to working on your art?”

Gale snorted. “Art? You doodle pictures of unicorns or something?”

Peeta ignored him and turned his focus to Katniss. “I still work on it. I have to pay the bills, though. I need to eat.”

Gale leaned back in his seat, clearly loving the direction this night had taken. “You don’t seem to have a problem finding food. Looking a bit tubby there, Mellark. Metabolism shutting down in your old age?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“Wow, that’s so much worse than I thought.”

Katniss, who was becoming increasingly agitated at the two men’s display, begged them to get back to the game. They begrudgingly agreed but couldn’t figure out her hand movements. It turned out she was not very good at charades. Frustrated, she started pointing at Peeta.

“Dickhead!” was Gale’s first guess.

“Cock sucker!” was his second.

She threw her hands up in the air. “Baker! The word I was trying to act out was baker. You two are idiots.”

With that, he waited for her to vanish and his electronics system to start going haywire. But instead, she silently stormed up the stairs and waited for him to come to bed.

*****

He was tired of straddling two worlds without existing fully in either. He had made his decision. It was time.

A single unit of morphling. That was all it would take. Because of the fake opiate in his system from his addiction treatments, he would be dead in a second once the drug hit his bloodstream.

Without a single reservation, he lifted the needle.

“NO!”

“Go away, Katniss,” he practically snarled. “I don’t want you to see this.”

“No. Please, no. Put down the syringe. We can talk about this. Whatever the problem is, we can find a solution. I promise.”

He shook his head. “That’s the thing. I don’t want to find a solution. I love you. I’m not depressed, and this isn’t a sacrifice. I want to be with you. This is how.”

“I lost everything when I died, Peeta. I didn’t get to witness Prim grow up and become an amazing woman. I didn’t get to meet my nephew or nieces. Gale didn’t get to meet the girl who would love him back. Haymitch didn’t get to have children and grandchildren. We gave up those things so that people like you could have a future! If you love me, you’ll put down the needle.”

“And then what? I love you, but I’m not sure I can live for you. It hurts too damn much, Katniss.”

“I love you, too. We can’t go on like this. You once said you’d wait for me always. Well, ditto. I’ll wait for you for as long as it takes. Someday, in the not-too-near future, we can be together. But until then you live. You get married and have children and write the great Panem novel and see the ocean and do all the things the people who died too young wish they could. Don’t kill the man I love, Peeta. Please.”

He put down the syringe.


	6. Epilogue

He dangled the keys in front of his brother’s face.

“You just moved in a year ago, bro. I thought this was your dream house.”

“Rye, do you want the keys or not?”

Peeta didn’t want his father living alone anymore, and Rye had no interest in ever settling down. Having the two move into Victor’s Village together seemed like the ideal situation.

It’d taken Peeta a while to forgive Katniss. He was frustrated she’d denied him his choice, scared it meant she didn’t want to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her. They fought. How could she want to wait? How could she even suggest he be with another woman? She screamed back that he was missing the entire point.

“Then don’t get married!” she’d said. “Take up skydiving. Breed designer dogs for rich people. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter what you do as long as you’re doing it! I want you to be happy, Peeta. And let’s face facts. You’re not happy wasting away in this house pining after a dead woman. You have to let me go, at least for a while.”

The more he thought about it, the more he saw her perspective. It was too easy for him to feel sorry for himself. When he thought about what Katniss had lived through, what she had sacrificed, the other kids sent to the Hunger Games, the people who died in a war to make Panem free… his own heartbreak paled in comparison.

And, if he was being honest, he still did want a family. His father and brother were the most important (living) people in the world to him. He didn’t want to miss out on that bond. He wanted to go on summer roadtrips. He wanted to teach his children how to paint. He wanted to master the perfect loaf of sourdough.

He wanted to live.

They decided he should leave. Peeta couldn’t move on with Katniss around, and, as much as she protested to the contrary, he knew it would hurt her to witness it.

As he handed his keys over to Rye, he didn’t know what the future would hold. But he walked away believing that whatever happened, it would be worth it.

“I love you,” he said before shutting the door behind him.

*****

That fall, he returned to share a Remembrance Day feast with his father and brother. Over potato casserole, Peeta loudly announced that he was quitting the restaurant and training to become an art teacher.

The lights flickered throughout the house for a solid hour.

*****

Three years later he married Delly.

They had two sons.

They moved to District Seven, where Peeta got a job as a high school art teacher.

Every time he looked at the forest he thought about Katniss.

*****

Katniss hid from sight, but Buttercup still roamed the house openly. Rye continued believing the cat belonged to a “hot neighbor” and was very disappointed when he met the accordion player who lived next door.

Then one day, Rye said to his brother over the phone: “I’m starting to get real suspicious of this cat, bro. He’s like some genetically modified super-cat that lives forever. I swear I saw him run through a wall once. That might have been the beer talking, though.”

Buttercup disappeared after that.

*****

Peeta periodically returned to District Twelve with his sons to visit their grandfather and uncle, and then eventually just their uncle. Delly never accompanied them. It was as if she instinctively knew it would be best if she kept her distance. And goodness bless her, she never complained.

On one of these visits, his toddler son slipped on the stairs. Peeta’s father, who was babysitting at the time and witnessed the event, told a fanciful tale about the boy freezing mid-air and then returning safely to the ground.

“Must be the dementia,” Rye said.

*****

After thirty years of marriage, Delly was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. They’d found it too late.

“I want you to know that I won’t be waiting for you on the other side,” she said. “I don’t have any expectations.”

“Delly…” he responded softly.

“Gosh, this reminds me of a conversation we had a million years ago on a date when you confessed you loved someone else, and I told you never to apologize to me. Do you remember that?”

“Like it was yesterday.”

“Then don’t start getting soft on me now. You were a loyal, attentive husband and an incredible father. I don’t have single regret. The amazing memories I have, that’s enough for me going forward. You gave me the best life, Peeta Mellark.”

“Right back at you, Dels.”

*****

Peeta moved back home. With Delly and Rye now gone, his kids grown, and his old house in Victor’s Village sitting vacant, it felt like time.

“Hey, you.”

Almost four decades had passed since he last saw Katniss Everdeen, and she’d never looked more radiant to him.

“You look the same,” she said.

He very much doubted that. After the birth of his first child, he made it his mission to get active, and he remained fit as he got older, but he was still and old man. He had deep wrinkles around his eyes and along his forehead. His hair was thinning at the top and despite his best efforts a bit of extra weight had started to pool at his middle.

“I don’t see it,” she explained. “You’re always just Peeta to me.”

The two picked up as if they’d never been apart. By this time, no one in Panem gave much thought to the rebellion or its heroes anymore, and Katniss appeared in the open more often. Strangers might have assumed she was his caregiver or an exceptionally close niece-- not that he cared what people thought. Buttercup returned, too, and once again mastered the art of annoying creatures both living and dead. Occasionally, they bumped into Gale, who, true to his word, was still clutching onto his eternal bitterness.

He showed her pictures of his children and grandchildren and made her laugh with stories of their childhood antics. She shared anecdotes about her experience being stuck in a house with Rye. He shipped all his old canvases over from District Seven and filled the house with his artwork. He described the places he’d traveled and the adventures he’d had.

It was a good, peaceful existence.

*****

He woke up one morning to find Katniss lying at his side. That would be unremarkable if she weren’t also stroking his cheek.

“You’re here,” she whispered.

He sat up and took inventory of himself. He was a young man again, just like Katniss always saw him.

“I guess so,” he said. “How was it?”

“Very peaceful. You were asleep.”

He kissed her then, because how could he not?

“My first real kiss.”

He smiled. “I guess in a way, it’s mine as well.”

“You’re starting to fade,” she said. “Look, Buttercup too.”

All that time they assumed the mangy cat was looking for Prim when really he’d stayed behind to protect Katniss.

“Seems like you’re coming with us,” he said.

“I’m a little scared,” she admitted.

“You’re scared? Imagine how I feel. I’ll probably be meeting your father soon. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together, right?”

She nodded. “Together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!
> 
> So that's it for my story. I hope you enjoyed reading it and that it gave you a bit of the feels. :)
> 
> I swear I don't hate Gale. I have no idea why I was so mean to him here. But screw it, because Everlark.


End file.
